


In the Red of Night

by shesaidnomaam



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, F/F, Peril, Vampire Natasha Romanov
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-02
Updated: 2021-02-19
Packaged: 2021-03-13 00:06:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,055
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29144169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shesaidnomaam/pseuds/shesaidnomaam
Summary: Natalia is an ancient vampire assassin, and when vampire existence is threatened by an unruly or chaotic vampire, Natalia is sent to put them down. The reader unexpectedly interrupts a feeding gone wrong and immediately becomes a liability to a very old, and very attractive assassin.
Relationships: Natasha Romanov (Marvel)/Reader
Comments: 5
Kudos: 58





	1. ONE.

It was dark outside and you only knew by chance. You'd caught a glimpse of a window as you passed by a coworker's office. The cubicles or 'bullpen' where you worked had no windows. The closest you typically got to gazing outside was the monthly scene in your National Parks calendar. It was a nice calendar. You hadn't understood why someone would have thrown it away at the Secret Santa party. It was clean enough, so you'd swiped it from the trash and never looked back.

Working after hours was typical. Shortly after you'd been hired, you found that your **official** duties were limited to paper only. You had many more responsibilities that were off the record. Your corporation wanted your efforts, but they didn't want to pay you for them. Nevertheless, you would have been let go the moment you attempted to clock out on time. You'd seen it happen to plenty of hard workers. 

You were expected to devote all of your time to the company. Having a personal life was for those at the top. If you wanted to keep your job, you had to play the game. You had to let your superiors use your fear of unemployment against you. They would dangle potential futures in front of you and the other underpaid employees, but in the several months of your employ, you hadn't seen anyone promoted that wasn't already swimming in cash and privilege. 

But, you were determined to _be someone_ which meant that you endured. You knew you and your coworkers were treated unethically, and you knew that you were allowing yourself to be consumed by your work, but it would be worth it. You were sure that at some point, you would make sure it was worth it. The trouble was figuring out how long you had to suffer first.

"Braverman," you said, expecting to see a head pop up in front of you. 

You received no response from your cubicle neighbor. With a quizzical frown, you listened for any typing. Many coworkers opted for headphones in order to focus on their work, but Braverman typically didn't wear them. He'd complained several times about missing important gossip around the office. It was amazing what he overheard when others suspected him to be deep in concentration. 

If you were still working, chances are he would be too. You'd seen him before you'd gone into the break room for your third coffee of the day. You stood up and peered over the wall that separated your cubicles. 

"He went to Nguyen's office," said the woman who sat diagonally across from you. "I think they were looking for you both."

"Oh, ok. Thanks," you replied, though you wondered if she would have told you of her own volition. Perhaps she thought that if you didn't make the meeting that you'd look bad and she could inherit your position. Sometimes the workplace culture bred such ideas. In reality, she wasn't in your department and she couldn't do your job. The company had made you paranoid.

Walking to your superior's office didn't feel the same. You assumed that it was your own anxiety about being _late_ that really put you on edge. It definitely wasn't the absolute silence around Nguyen's office. It wasn't simply quiet, the hallway was devoid of sound. You were reminded of the times when your ears had been blocked due to a cold, making you unable to hear anything but your own heartbeat.

You knocked on the door to the office, expecting to be called in, but you were met with more silence. Your coworker had said, Nguyen's office, you knew she had. Yet you couldn't even hear someone approaching the door to let you into the room. So you stood there like a deer in headlights. If your presence was needed, surely you'd be expected to arrive at some point. You were torn between knocking again and seeming impatient or standing in the hall like a clueless know-nothing. Both impressions were unflattering.

However, you'd rather look too eager, than not eager enough. So you knocked again. This time, you heard murmuring inside. You weren't sure if someone was being instructed to open the door, or if _you_ were being instructed to enter. After another moment of waiting with your mouth hanging open, you took a deep breath and reached for the door handle. 

The door didn't open slowly, but it felt like time stood still as the moment you had eyes on the room, you saw Nguyen hunched over his desk, blood trickling from his lips. Braverman lied lifeless across the tabletop.

Before you could inhale a breath, Nguyen was in front of you, with a hand clamped over your mouth. He swiftly pulled you inside the office and locked the door behind you. It took no time at all, but you knew it happened. 

"I ordered you a while ago. I hate when a meal is late. Oh well, it's not like I was going to tip you anyway," Nguyen taunted. His chin was dripping with blood that ran down from two prominent fangs. You'd never seen _those_ before. 

You wished you had a witty retort, but you were too stilled with fear. He was going to kill you, that was how things like this worked. Or at least that was what films would have you believe. As far as you'd known, vampires weren't real. Yet you were certain that you were being threatened by that very monster.

"At least you're not cold."

He meant your blood, you knew, but you _were_ cold. You were freezing, and your only available movement was a shudder.

If you could scream, someone would know. If you could make a lot of noise, they'd catch him in the act, even if you were dead by the time they arrived. You had to make noise.

You couldn't. 

But then, you didn't have to. Nguyen's steely eyes lifted from your face. His jaw tensed and his nostrils flared. 

"So they've sent the dogs after me?" He said.

You were confused and became even more confused by the second voice you heard. Your vision was obstructed by Nguyen's frame, but someone had entered the office from the window. There hadn't been a sound, yet Nguyen hadn't needed to turn around.

"Did you think they wouldn't?" The second voice was the audible equivalent of silk with a twinge of a feminine Slavic accent. "And obviously I came at the right time. How did you plan to clean this up, youngling?"

Nguyen's grip on you waned and he spun around. You hadn't realized your feet were off the ground until your soles hit the floor once more. Nguyen reached for your shirt collar to keep you near. At a different angle, you were able to see the woman. She had red hair that complimented her strong features and bright eyes. Like Nguyen, she too had longer canines. But the biggest difference was her outfit. She was not dressed in business casual. She was dressed like she was a well-designed video game. 

You were in awe of her despite feeling the need to stay present in the room. Yet somehow, **her** presence had made you feel safer. She was clearly unhappy with your boss, but you had no evidence that she would let you live once she was done with Nguyen. As if she knew your inner monologue, she addressed you whilst still looking at Nguyen.

"Human, you may leave."

"She's not going anywhere."

Nguyen didn't let loose of your shirt. The woman finally made eye contact with you and you felt your chest tighten. It felt like the first time someone had ever made eye contact with you. As soon as it happened, it was over just as quickly and the woman was looking at the man beside you. Her head tilted like a cat sizing up its prey. Whatever she was thinking, whatever she was planning with that _look_ was not good, but you felt oddly sure that you were not her focus. 

It took no time at all for the woman to cross the room. You didn't even catch it with your eyes; she was a blur. But you knew she had to be faster and stronger than Nguyen as she had him in less than a second. His hand was no longer attached to you. You were free. It happened so fast that it didn't register. You were transfixed by the red-headed woman hoisting Nguyen up into the air. His feet dangled despite the fact that he was nearly a foot taller than she. 

"Human," the redhead said calmly, without looking at you. "Is this your boss?"

"Yes," your mouth felt dry, it was the first time you'd spoken since Nguyen dragged you into the room. 

"Then I would say that you have the rest of the day off."

Technically, you _were_ off for the day. Your presence at the office was merely a workplace-ethics and labor violation. The woman didn't need to hear that; she was allowing you to leave. Understanding _why_ would take some time, but you'd regained enough of your faculties to know that it was time to leave. 

With a squeaked, "Thank you," you exited the office. The door closed behind you without a need for effort on your part. Whatever the vampire woman was going to do, she didn't want an audience. 

As you stood with your back to Nguyen's office, you were able to see the cubicles in the distance. There were employees typing away or daydreaming away without a care. No one seemed at all concerned with the office, you, or the missing Braverman. They were so focused on themselves, and their own pressurized working situation that you were a non-factor. You could have been dead on your boss's desk like your coworker, and they wouldn't have looked up from their screens.

The walk back to your cubicle felt like the longest walk you'd ever taken and it was roughly fifty feet from the door to your desk. No one noticed as you grabbed your things and left. No one asked why you were choosing to leave because they didn't care - at all. Perhaps if someone had looked at you, they would have seen the smear of blood Nguyen's fingers had left on your jaw. You didn't see it yourself until you were in the elevator. The doors showed your reflection and it shocked you how different you looked. 

You looked disheveled, and your eyes were still wide and pleading for safety, though you were alone and as far as you knew, you _were_ safe. Though no one would see you and think, 'Vampire attack interrupted' if someone took the time to spare you a glance, they would see a person who had clearly experienced _something_ out of the ordinary. You were not the same as you'd been when you'd entered the boss' office - in more ways than one.

The front desk attendant gave you a habitual, "Have a good evening."

"Thanks," you managed to say. Your voice was a bit shaky, but the attendant didn't notice. He actually looked at you, but you knew it was a part of his routine. He'd send you all off, nod in your direction, and then he'd go back to his computer. At least someone had acknowledged you, you thought. Though, he was as oblivious as anyone else. The front desk was probably not the best place for a person who apparently had tunnel vision. 

The chill of the night hit you in the face the moment you stepped outside. It had been a light-jacket kind of morning, but the sunset had taken with it the mild chill. Instead, the air was frigid, and the wind was wild. You heard a howl on the air. The wind was responsible, you'd heard the noise many times before, but your run-in with the supernatural had left you on a confused edge. If Vampires were real, and you were certain that was what you'd seen, werewolves were just as possible. You were beginning to spiral; anything could be possible.

While you'd noticed the obliviousness of those around you, you hadn't realized yourself falling into a similar pattern. This made it easy for the red-haired woman to appear in your path without a warning. 

You gasped and stepped backward. The woman made no effort to encroach upon your space; she let you move away. She knew you would stay put and she was right to assume. You weren't going to run despite the flight alarms sounding in your brain.

"Human," the woman said. You'd never been called, 'human' before, yet your species had been mentioned at least three times already. For a fact that you knew to be true, it still felt strange to hear yourself referred to as a _human_. 

"You cannot tell another about what you witnessed tonight."

She was fast. She must have finished Nguyen while you were in the elevator - maybe even before. You envisioned the nightly cleaning staff stumbling onto a horrific crime scene. You liked the night staff, they didn't deserve to clean up such a mess. Disposing of viscera was not in their job description.

"I won't," you replied. You wanted to tell someone; holding in that kind of information was going to make you sick. But you knew, deep down, that the moment you opened your mouth, others would think you insane. "No one would believe me."

"Unfortunately, that is a chance I cannot take."

Another step back, your feet hit the edging of the plant bed. People were leaving the building and walking past you without so much as a glance in your direction. Cars were driving by on the street like there wasn't a woman with visible fangs standing in front of you. She didn't hide as Nguyen did or _had_. It was hard to see why she was so concerned with being discovered when she stood in public, fangs out and dressed in what you assumed was vampiric tactical gear. In her defense, the gear seemed lightweight. 

"You don't have to-" Your voice was shaky and unsure. The woman was threatening you. If she intended to kill you, there was nothing you could do. You'd only seen her in action for a few moments but they were enough to inform you of her power. "I won't say anything. You don't have to kill me."

She frowned as she observed you. It appeared that she didn't like your assumption. Clearly, she was a killer, how were you supposed to know if she showed mercy. Her statement could only be interpreted one way. If she took offense, perhaps she should have said something else. From where you stood, she wanted to eliminate all witnesses, and you were the only witness.

"I do not wish to kill you," she said. Her voice was so soothing and it made your shoulders soften. You hadn't realized how stiff you'd gone. Her presence held power over you, and when she said she didn't want to kill you, you believed her. 

"Then what do you want to do? I meant it, I won't tell anyone. I don't even know your name."

"And you won't. I will take away the memory of tonight for your safety and the safety of my people."

"Your people...you mean?"

She nodded and made no effort to verbally confirm your suspicions. 

You were silent as you stared at the confirmed vampire in your presence. She was mysterious in a very dangerous way, but a feeling was burning in your stomach. It felt like a need, but you hadn't a clue as to what you needed and how the red-haired vampire could help you. Apparently, her way of helping you was erasing a piece of your mind. Maybe that was an exaggeration, but she had expressed the explicit desire to tamper with your memories. 

It would feel better, you sensed that much. You knew that the shock would go away, as would the fear, and unanswered questions. But, with those negative things would go the knowledge that you _as a human_ were not alone. Knowledge was power, even if you weren't sure how to wield it yet. 

"I don't want to forget," you admitted quietly. When the woman approached you again, you didn't step back. Technically, you couldn't without trampling the city-planted flowers. "I want to know what happened to my friend."

The vampire reached out and rubbed away the blood from your chin. She didn't ask, and you didn't need her to. You stood still and _let her._ "You want to remember the way he met his end? For what purpose?"

"Someone should know; someone who knew him."

"And when your boss is missing and you know the truth, what will you say?"

You weren't sure how to answer the vampire's question. Everything had moved so fast, you didn't have time to plan what you'd say to everyone else. Your lie was entirely dependent on what was found in Nguyen's office. 

"I don't know."

She considered you, and likely what she was going to do with you. You weren't convincing, you knew, but she hadn't acted without consulting you. So maybe, just maybe, you had a way out of having your mind wiped. 

"Go home, human," she said. And you thought you'd taken a kickball to the gut; you were taken aback so abruptly. She was letting you leave, or so it seemed. "You have twenty-four hours to consider this choice. I hope you will see reason. I will find you tomorrow night."

You should have focused on the deal the vampire was making you, rather than the fact that she was promising another meeting. Maybe she would answer some of your questions. Maybe she would satiate your curiosity.

Or maybe she would make you forget she existed at all. 

"How will you find me?" you asked. It was a wonder, but it was one of the last questions you should have asked. She'd scaled a building and entered through a window without so much as a sound. She could find you easily. You wasted your breath asking a question that didn't need to be answered. 

"Don't worry about me. Keep your wits about you, and your mouth closed. Consider my offer and the alternative. Your knowledge is yours for now, but understand that should you speak of this night to anyone in the next day, my offer will be revoked."

The vampire woman was not suggesting that she'd lay off and leave your memories alone. She was suggesting that you and your knowledge would cease to be. She was essentially giving you a day to come to your senses and realize that you wanted to forget the ordeal.

But you were stubborn, and she was too interesting to forget. You had to figure out a way to keep your knowledge and gain some answers in the process, if only for a chance to see _her_ again.


	2. TWO.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In the wake of your run-in with the supernatural, you find yourself looking for a way to retain your memories.

The day after your chaotic brush with death, the office was abuzz. No one knew why there were cops on your floor. It was obvious that it would be a day full of suspicion when you saw one of the cleaning staff wrapped in a shock blanket. 

Despite your own innocence, you were racked with guilt. You knew the truth. Only you could provide closure for Braverman's friends and family. But if you said anything that resembled the truth, you'd die. So instead, you listened carefully, curious as to when someone would remember that you'd been in Nguyen's office the night before. If no one said anything, the cameras would likely enlighten the detectives. 

Your mind drifted to your red-haired savior and would-be killer. She said she'd come to you again, and though you knew nothing about her, you felt it was wise to trust her word. You wondered and hoped she'd at least let you beg for your memories. You didn't like being able to remember the fear you'd felt and your survivor's guilt was creating a hole in your stomach, but it was real. You wanted to know the bigger truth; humanity wasn't alone and immortality existed. The knowledge struck you cold with something akin to fear, but you wanted to cling to it. Now you understood why people in horror films made terrible decisions. 

Naturally, as you thought about the existence of vampires and your only contact, you began to daydream about the way the redhead had stood before you. Her skin was flawless, and her lips were plump around the fangs you were assumed had ripped into countless humans. The woman in her fitted outfit had carved a space out for herself in your mind and you doubted she intended to. Even in your confused terror, you'd made a note of the vampire's curvaceous form. It was embarrassing how being in extreme peril couldn't thwart your libido. Once you'd heard something about fear response and sexual response being quite similar; you hadn't paid much attention, but you grabbed onto the idea to make yourself feel better about lusting after who you sensed was an incredibly dangerous being.

"No one's seen Nguyen," a cubicle neighbor whispered. 

A voice from the adjacent cubicle replied, "It's a body in there. Could be his."

"How do you know?"

"Look."

Though you weren't a part of the conversation, you followed the instruction all the same and looked towards the elevators. Two people with 'Coroner' jackets wheeled a gurney in the direction of the office. Immediately, it struck you as odd. As far as you knew, there were two dead bodies to be found. Your mind began to theorize as to why only one body would be left behind and whose body it might be. 

The HR manager and building manager stood outside Nguyen's office, frantically whispering to each other. Then, a man you'd only seen in emails emerged from the office with a hanky over his mouth. If it was a crime scene, surely he, the CEO shouldn't have been in the middle of it. He looked like he regretted going in, if it was in the state you assumed it was, you didn't blame him. Though he'd never set foot on your floor, he waved his hands around for everyone's attention. An officer emerged behind him to add effect.

"While I am sure that you are curious as to the events of this morning, we are going to ask that everyone goes home at this time."

The officer put his hand up to add, "Stay in the area; do not leave town in the next few days." They were going to interview people, but they didn't know who to call first.

"So no one is going to tell us what is going on?" A voice pressed.

"You will learn the important and relevant information as we understand more," the investigator replied. He really couldn't tell you anything because any information would have to be reported to you by the company board, and they loved to play keep-away with facts. You'd likely be the only one who ever knew the truth, and you only knew _some_ of it. The cops may never know the reality.

Though there was grumbling and whispered questions, your coworkers did not wait around. They gathered their belongings and left willingly; they didn't want to stay and work when they could be dismissed for something that concerned someone else. You weren't as eager; you wanted to see what was left behind by your redheaded crush. You knew you'd never head the whole truth about Nguyen's demise from the higher-ups, and perhaps that was for the best, but acknowledging this didn't satiate the curious feeling. Whose body was going into the body bag, and what happened to the other one?

As far as plans went, the one you devised was comically simple. Stay in the restroom, and wait until the cops took a break. Then, you'd steal away into the office and do some investigating of your own. You bit your bottom lip as you remembered the hallway cameras. Nothing would make you seem more like a person of interest like sneaking into a crime scene. Maybe you could lie and say that you'd left something inside the office, something that would show that you and Nguyen were having an affair. It was a gross lie to imagine, but people loved a scandal, and presenting an 'embarrassing' story might get you out of suspicion. Everyone loved the chance to gossip. But the more you considered it, the less you could live with the lie. Getting caught couldn't be an option. You had to be careful.

The cops were putting up the 'do not cross' tape. You fought a cringe and made your way to the restroom. It was close enough that you could hear the louder officers. Of course, it was still difficult to know the actual moment the scene was left unattended. Your head began to rob with tension. For something that seemed so simple, it felt increasingly impossible.

It took twenty-three minutes for one of the beat cops to loudly announce that they were breaking for coffee. You counted ninety seconds and then you emerged from the stall. You washed your hands; you hadn't actually used the toilet, but you'd flushed. Which meant the noise had to be followed up with the noise of a faucet. It was expected bathroom ambiance. You'd seen how movies went, it was the little things that got people caught.

The moment you entered the hall, you saw something that would change your plan for the better, the absolutely better. For lying on the floor, was a badge. Some careless detective, Norman Wallace, had dropped his badge. His loss was your gain, but you'd think about the incompetence of your local police department another time. A lost badge gave you a reason to double back to Nguyen's office. Sure, you might appear nosey in the process, but you'd have the badge to return so you'd be a nosey _do-gooder_. 

"Hello?" you asked cautiously, making sure that you weren't entering an occupied crime scene. You were hyper-aware of the cameras at your back. No one was watching you, but all it took was a rewind button to rat you out. You did your best impression of someone who didn't want to do exactly what you planned to do.

No response, you didn't know if you were relieved or upset that you couldn't be stopped. Inhaling deeply, you opened the door to Nguyen's office. The scene was far less horrific than it had been the night before. The blood on the desk and floor had dried, and the coroners had already taken the body and any additional remains. If it weren't for the smell, you could pretend you were seeing a painting session that got out of hand. What really struck you was the singular outline that laid upon the desk. It was Braverman's outline; it marked where you'd seen him. Nguyen's body must have been missing if he'd been killed there at all. There would have been larger stains for a body's worth of viscera explosion. The absence unsettled you and shoved more questions into your already spiraling curiosity. 

Before you could tumble too far down the rabbit hole, the desk began to vibrate. The sound was unmistakable. A phone was ringing somewhere in one of the drawers judging by the way the vibration was muffled. You could hear that the phone was bouncing around against wood. Police were meant to thoroughly search a crime scene. Clearly, the ones assigned to your workplace case had missed something. You wondered if it was the responsibility of the man whose badge was still in your hand.

You hurried to the desk and found that the drawers had all been opened and rifled through. Papers and pens were askew. The police _had_ searched the desk. Yet the phone, which you assumed was Nguyen's, was still somewhere to be found. The muffled vibrations seemed like they were coming from the long drawer directly underneath the center of the desk. Carefully, you felt underneath the drawer with your fingertips. It was very likely that the cops had done the same move, if it was obvious to you, it was likely routine for them. Nevertheless, they _had_ missed something. And something that was so well hidden had to be noteworthy. 

Stilling your fingers, you felt the vibrations coming from the underside of the desk. Yet as you looked, you saw nothing. The drawer had a false bottom. When you placed your hand on the inside of the drawer, you could feel the vibrations underneath the wooden board. They were strongest near the back joining of the drawer. Again, you wondered about the usefulness of the police in your area. However, for once, police incompetence was working in your favor. 

You felt a catch, a small hole that was just big enough to be felt by your fingertip. By applying a little pressure, you triggered the false bottom to shift slightly. The shift revealed the seam of a small panel. Quietly, despite the noise from the phone bouncing around, you slide the panel to the side. There, underneath in a small secretive pocket, was a phone. Whoever was calling, they were serious and Nguyen didn't have a voicemail set up. You turned the phone off and stashed it in your pocket. In addition to the phone, a money clip was sitting inside the hidden compartment. You took that too and without remorse. Nguyen had threatened to kill you, the money clip was deserved. 

Feeling that you had a live bomb in your pocket, you knew you needed to leave the office. Any other spoils would have to go unclaimed. You were certain that you had the jackpot anyway. A secret phone in a vampire's desk was sure to have all sorts of juicy information for you. Even if your memories were wiped, you'd have proof in your possession waiting for you to learn once again.

You sped towards the door, fully prepared to seem 'confused' and 'in search', but you nearly collided with a detective. He instantly frowned, but luckily for you, you recognized him. His face was in your hand. "You!" you said excitedly, though you wanted to vanish into thin air.

You brandished the badge. "I was looking for you. I found this," you handed the item to its rightful owner. At that moment, you realized how to turn suspicion into guilt; some of you're more overbearing family members would be delighted. "I didn't want to leave it with just anyone because I'd imagine it's pretty embarrassing to lose your badge. I didn't want to make you look irresponsible, or ill-fit for your job by accidentally giving this to a superior." 

You laid it on thick, eyes wide in false innocence like the liar who knew you could always be. If the detective was worth a cent of his pay, he'd notice. You weren't that good of an actress, not as good as you felt you were. It didn't matter though, your pretending worked. The detective hurriedly took the badge from you with a hushed, 'thank you'. After that, you both went your separate ways. He had a job to do poorly, and you were meant to be on your way home, a place you genuinely wanted to be. 

It was there that you were able to snoop through Nguyen's mystery phone. The money clip didn't actually hold money. They were some tickets or passes to something you knew nothing about. It bothered you, as you had tried to get brunch with it only to have the counter worker stare at you while you tried to figure out what you'd stolen. Though you'd decided that you didn't _steal_ so much as gather evidence about a person who'd wanted to consume you.

What you found on the phone made you immediately regret snooping, but the more you found, the more you realized that you had found a way to keep your memories. Not only did you believe that you found your saving grace, you believed it could keep you in contact with your beautiful savior. Time flew by as you imagined the possibilities. You never saw yourself as a sidekick, but perhaps it would suit you.

"Human," her voice was like a purr, but the sudden noise made you jump. 

You looked up to see that at some point, the red-haired vampire had entered your apartment. At first, you stammered, wanting to figure out _how_ she'd achieved the feat, but your attention was stolen by the way she stood before you. She was confident, and you could practically feel the power swirling around her. You knew it was appropriate to be afraid of such a woman, and you were, but you were also captivated by her very existence.

"I have a name," you replied, hoping she'd inquire. You assumed, based on nothing, that it would be harder to kill someone if you knew their name. You wanted the vampire to know your name.

"Yes, I would assume that you do, but it is unknown to me, so I call you what I know you to be."

"What if I called you, 'Vampire', it seems offensive."

"Only because that is a name given to us by humans and not what I call myself," the woman replied. Her eyes glanced around the room, studying your living room.

"How did you...aren't I supposed to invite you in?" you asked, certain that you'd heard the rule many, many times. And if it appeared in countless stories and films, it had to be based on something true.

"I've never understood that one," the vampire replied, "as if my legs are bound by a spoken statement. I go where I please. I did tell you to expect me." She walked around the room, touching your things as she clearly studied you. 

"How old are you?" you asked abruptly, surprising yourself. 

"This is rude," she replied. "You have someone into your home for the first time, and you ask them, 'how old are you'?"

Though her tone was fairly light, you wanted to apologize. Many people would have taken offense to such a question. You'd been impulsive, and it made you nervous that any additional poorly asked questions would put a preemptive end to your plan to endear yourself to the vampire woman. Your jaw began to fumble at the words of your apology.

"The less you know about me, the better." She picked a picture from your bookshelf. You watched her look at the photograph with a quizzical expression. It took you a whole ten seconds to spit out another invasive question.

"Do _you_ show up in photographs?"

"Why would I take pictures of myself? So others can find that I don't age as they do? Why would I do this to myself?" she asked.

"But you could? If you wanted to?" you answered.

"You've been watching the fairy tales," the woman said, slightly chiding you in her faint Eastern European accent. "Have you also considered why you were able to see your boss during the day? Surely that must have given you reason for concern."

"Yeah, I did actually. Why is that?"

"Human," the vampire said firmly. She seemed unwilling to offer you any genuine or in-depth answers. "You do not seem like a person who has changed their mind."

"Well, about that." You clutched the phone in both of your hands. "I got a hold of Nguyen's phone. Not the one he used for business, but one he had hidden in his desk, in a secret compartment."

The woman was next to you, the phone in _her_ hand before you could utter another syllable. You spoke to her as you remained at her side. Even the shock of her speed didn't deter you; you _wanted_ to stand beside the vampire. It gave you the opportunity to really take in the features of her face. 

"He's been in contact with others. They've been rounding up humans to trade for a fighting ring, and what I'm assuming is a slave trade. If you're worried about sloppy vampires getting found out, this is probably something you'd want to look into."

By the way the woman looked at you, you could tell that she wasn't buying your selfless informant act. "How did you find this?"

"He had a secret compartment in his desk. The cops hadn't found it."

"Why were you in his office?"

She asked something so simple, but you didn't have an answer. You didn't want to lie, but the truth would sound so _bad_. You'd seem so desperate. You tried to modify the reality to save as much face as possible. "I was curious to see what happened after I left."

"Please do not make me read your mind."

"Oh, _that_ is true. Of course, it is," you grumbled. As your hand began to rub a phantom neck pain, you admitted, "I needed to know what happened. Even if it was just for a little while. I went in, and then I heard his phone from some unfound place in his desk. You may not know this about humans, but we're often slaves to our own curiosity."

Again, you left out the part where you studied the phone like a woman possessed in order to find a bargaining chip. However, you could tell that she knew. Even if she wasn't reading your mind, she could tell you were gearing up to negotiate. The redhead sat down on your couch. 

Despite meeting her less than twenty-four hours earlier, you'd pictured her on your couch many, many times. 

"We knew he was reckless, but this is new information. I do not recognize all of the names here, this is most likely purposeful." The woman looked up from the phone and saw you standing. "This is your home, sit," and you did. You followed directions to sit on your own couch. "I assume you want to make a trade for this information."

"You assumed right," you confirmed, "But, I don't want anything tangible. I'd like," You took a breath, "I'd like to keep what I've learned. All of it, I don't want you to take my memories."

The vampire looked at you, she _really_ looked at you. This made you feel vulnerable, exposed, and oddly hopeful. She hadn't immediately told you off for your attempts at being crafty. That had to be a good sign.

"I could take this phone, your memories, and you'd know nothing," she admitted honestly. You fell silent, unable to even hear your breathing. "Why do you wish to keep this knowledge when I can feel your fear?"

"Truth is truth, and I want to know the truth even if it's terrifying."

"I have seen what this knowledge does to humans, you would not like it. You would assume anyone who acts a certain way is **forever living** and therefore a potential threat. You'll think you ought to convince someone else so you feel less alone with your information. This knowledge will devour you."

"But at least it would be my choice to make," you responded honestly. You closed your eyes and sighed, "I want to remember for me. If I utter a word of it to anyone else, I give you permission," you shouldn't, you really should have kept your mouth shut, "to do what you do...to me."

"Kill you, you mean."

You nodded with a cringe. The woman's face was unchanged as her hand reached out to you. Gently, she curled her fingers under your jaw and traced your chin with her thumb. Her hand was cool to the touch, but not cold like you assumed she would be. Her eyes were deep pools of green that made it impossible to think of anything else but her presence. 

"Human, you're asking for far more than I think you realize. But I will honor your request for now. You did right to give this to me." Your heart felt like it was going to burst from your chest in an extremely dramatic way. "I will take this information back to my people. Did anyone see you get this phone?"

"No, and only one cop saw me in the office. But I had a good excuse to be there."

The vampire didn't seem like she approved of the news, but she made no efforts to chastise your behavior. She didn't need to, you could feel her disproval. She stood up from your couch, phone in hand. "I'm going to take this. Leaving it here will only draw attention to you. And I worry you may not have been as elusive as you would like."

"You don't know that," you said with a small frown.

Assuredly, the woman replied, "I do." She headed to your front door. "I will be in touch."

"Do you think... do you think I should be worried about the people Nguyen was texting?" You asked, trying desperately to seem less concerned with the possibility than you were. 

"Yes." She didn't mince words. "But I can take care of them."

Your stomach flipped in your abdomen. "How will you know? How can I get in touch with you?"

"So many questions. You're asking me to trust you, human. I am asking you to do the same without asking so many questions with answers I will not answer."

You said your name, just your name. If the vampire was going to return, and if she was going to be concerned with your well-being, she needed a name, and so did you. "That's my name, could you..."

"You may call me, Natalia," she said, and then she left. She offered no, 'good-bye', but at least you'd gotten a name; a name as gorgeous and sophisticated as she seemed. 

Upon realizing that you had one final question, you hurried into the hall to catch Natalia before she departed. But the door had been a formality, and you found no trace of your vampire. 

It didn't matter; by the sound of it, you'd have a few more chances to ask Natalia about herself. And she would have plenty of opportunities to refuse to answer any of your questions.

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally posted as a part of my Pilot Week 'event' on my Tumblr. This series as well as seven other series were created based on reader surveys! For more information, check out my Tumblr!


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